Awakening to sacred time
Welcoming the Solstice and a few journaling prompts for grounding in this new season
We are met by the solstice this week.
Here in the Northern hemisphere, we are welcoming summer. In the Southern hemisphere, our kin are welcoming winter. What a beautiful reminder of the diversity of our lived experiences in any given moment. Whether you are welcoming summer or winter this week, this solstice is an invitation to mark time with the spinning wheel of the year.
There is such spaciousness in rhythms and seasons. I am reminded that time that is a circle instead of a line.
There is no rush here.
I was recently reading a book by Christine Valters Painter, an abbess who leads a creative and contemplative community based in Ireland. The book is called Sacred Time, and in it, she writes about the difference between kronos time and kairos time.
Kronos speaks to “chronological” time which is the steady forward march of our passing days, that which we can count and track with the hands of our watch: 1, 2, 3, 4…tick, tick, tick. Our days are organized around kronos time. Like most other commodities, we often feel as though we don’t have enough of it and we work hard to make the most of what we’ve got. It feels limited, finite. It is immensely valuable.
But there is also kairos time, which stands apart from chronological time in almost every way. Kairos time is characterized by those moments when we feel heaven touching earth. Kairos time, in a way, feels time-less. Spacious. Incalculable. Dialed into the eternal. You access it in situations when you’re deep in flow with a passion or project. You experience kairos time when you are caught up in moments of transcendence and contemplation. You sense kairos time when there are profound political shifts in the world. It is mysterious and miraculous, and somehow always available to us if we pause and make room.
Pause. Make room.
We do not create sacred time. We awaken to it by paying attention.
Like a river, sacred time is always flowing. We decide when to step off of the river bank and into the stream.
I’ve been writing about noticing a lot lately, perhaps due to the fact that our attention is one of the few things in our lives we have any real control over. Even now, I’m sitting here with a horrible toothache, and while I’ve taken my pain reliever and made my appointment to see the dentist, the truth is I have very little control over when or how this pain will subside. Being in the practice of noticing, of making room to sense Divine presence even now, feels like one of the few things I can do to lighten the load.
With the solstice at our doorstep, I wanted to share with you a few of the reflection questions I’ve been carrying, especially in consideration of the sacred time available to us by way of this seasonal transition.
1—When I look at the created world around me, at the birds and the plants and the waterways and sky, what do I notice? What form is life taking around me? What lessons are here?
2—What is my relationship to growth and productivity (summer) or to rest and retreat (winter)? Is my way of relating to growth & productivity, or to rest & retreat, life-giving or life-draining? What adjustments are wanting to be made?
3—What is ripening in my life right now? What might harvest and indulgence look like? What wants to be celebrated?
Grab your journal and a pen. Find a quiet place where you can grow still within and without. Respond to these questions in your own way.
Blessed Solstice dear friends. I look forward to being back here next week with a resource round-up for the month of June, which will only be available to paid subscribers.
Much love,
Bethaney


